Mother's Day

Well she was right about that, my shit gets everywhere.

"Ok then," I responded. "I can take it if you can. But remember, 'We always tell the truth in this house'! So no fibbing."

"Me?" Mom responded, as if she was aghast at the suggestion. "Fib? Never? It's on. But there must be a penalty, in case someone loses control..."

"Hmmm. Penalty." I thought for a few moments. Then I came up with a great and terrible idea.

"How about," I began. "Whoever 'loses', has to have the other person watch them 'lose' again?"

Holy fuck what did I just suggest? One of us watch the other masturbate? I'm some kind of sick fucking puppy and I don't know if there's a heaven but I'm pretty sure there's a hell and I'll be in it with all the other derelicts and deviants and killers and--

"Deal!" Mom said.

We worked the dirt for a while in silence.

"Who said it could get this fucking hot in May?" I wondered aloud. I pulled my T-shirt over my head to try and catch some breeze. I got back to work, I was trying to chop the roots away from some other fucking tree that was invading the flower bed.

"Foul!" Mom called. "Um... Un-necessary Buffness!"

"What?" I teased back. "There's no fouls! There's no rules! It's jut win or lose, mama!" I had bulked up over the years, though. Nice to be noticed. I made sure to flex my arms more, now that I knew she was watching. 'Foul', my ass! Ooh, yeah, my ass. I should turn a little more away from her so I can bend over for her and grab some fucking roots.

"Foul!" Mom said again. "You can't point your smelly ass at me!"

"It does NOT smell! Okay... it probably does... but that's not a foul because you made me come out here!"

Mom was muttering under her breath just barely loud enough for me to hear her. She was teasing some more. "God damn kids... show no respect... put em through college... they cheat at the games..."

I just chuckled until Mom sat up straight and stretched. She arched her back and stuck her arms way up in the air. Her chest swelled to enormous proportions as she breathed in a cleansing breath.

"You were right," she said. "It's damn hot out here."

I kept sneaking looks as she went about her business like I wasn't there. She undid the top button on her old ratty shirt. Then the next. And another one. Christ! How many buttons are on this fucking shirt? She undid all of them, just leaving the shirt tails tied right at her belly button.

I could now see exposed boob flesh.

Cleavage. Lovely, dark, and deep. But I have promises to keep. And many days before I... masturbate.

I returned to my work, trying to hide my rising boner. I sneaked peaks back over my shoulder. Mom was on all fours, moving about, lifting a hand to grab a petunia and place it in the ground. Her breasts swayed back and forth, and they shook and trembled as she moved about the garden.

"Alright!" I yelled. "Foul!"

Mom smiled at me sweetly, her breasts hanging down such that I could see about 47% of her total tits. Not the nipples, of course, they were straining her shirt.

"There's no fouls, remember?"

"There should be. Illegal Motion in the... front..."

"You mean this?" Mom shook her breasts.

"Yeah, that. Stop it or I'll go on strike and form a union and picket your house. 'Unfair to workers'."

We finished about an hour later. The garden looked very nice. We didn't, though. Dirty, sweaty, smelly, and there was potting soil all over the walkway.

"You put away the tools?" Mom suggested. "And I'll get the hose."

I put away a few things in the shed. When I came back Mom had the hose going, washing down the bricks of all the dirt. I took in the rest of the tools.

"Hey," I said when I came back. "I'm going in for a shower."

"Not like that!" Mom snapped. She pointed down at my feet. I had shoes on, but they were filthy and dirt had gotten inside. I kicked off them off and told her to rinse my feet off.

"Okay, stand back. The water shoots out pretty hard." Always thinking of how to be good to her kids, Mom was.

She pointed the nozzle and sprayed my feet and got the dirt off. Got the dirt off my shins and calves, too. Good not to traipse all that dirt onto the rug.

Then, Mom raised the hose and shot me in the crotch! And the chest and face! She was hosing me down! And that fucking water felt COLD!

"No!" I cried. "You did not just do that!" I stood there and took it. I even turned around so she could wash my back.

"Are you done?" I asked when she stopped.

"Almost!" and she sprayed me one more time. "Ok, done... Travis... wait... don't... TRAVIS!"

I charged Mom and scooped her up in my arms. She's not light as a feather, but it wasn't a problem for an adrenaline and hormonally charged young man.

"Stop it!" she begged. "Put me down! What are you... no! Not the pool!"

I unceremoniously threw Mom into the deep end of the pool.

As she came up for air, I did a cannonball right next to her.

Jesus! I thought the hose water was cold! We don't turn on the pool heater until Memorial Day! Fuck! We both started to swim to the shallow end, but I was wearing cargo shorts. The kind with like 17 pockets and shit. These were not High-Speed Low-Drag swimming trunks! I could barely move, and I used to be on the swim team! I unsnapped and unzipped and kicked them off underwater. I kicked hard and caught Mom, gave her a yank on the leg, and passed her.

I quickly got to the steps and started getting out. I could here Mom sputtering behind me.

"You dirty, rotten, cheating little bastard! I was winning! Oh you're an infuriating piece of shit!"

I turned to help her out so she wouldn't slip. As Mom rose out of the water, so did my cock. Rise, that is. Which wasn't that big of a problem, except I was standing there in my wet skivvies.

But, you see, when Mom came out of the water, the cold water, I couldn't contain myself. Her nipples had hardened to near diamond strength, and they made sure everyone knew it. Those fuckers stood out at least an inch through her shirt. The wet material clung to her body, leaving nothing to the imagination. Oh look, there's even a little mole on the one side.

Mom was still fussing at me as she tilted her head back to gather up her hair and wring it dry. That only thrust out her enormous tits even more. I was now at full attention and didn't know what to fucking do. We were just playing around, right? This isn't serious, right? Is it? Fuck!

Mom kept up her funny tirade. "Little rat-bastard! It's on now! You can count on that! Wait until I tell your father--" She stopped mid-sentence as she happened to look down and saw my raging hard-on.

"Tell dad... what? Tell him what, Mom? I'm thinking maybe we don't tell him this..."

Mom suddenly realized her wet nipples were drilling through her shirt. She crossed her arms, trying to cover them up. That was funny, because her boobs are too big for that and she just said "Oh! You!" and began to walk off.

I patted her butt as she walked past.

"Hey!" she cried, still walking away. "None of that, now! And no masturbating, either!"

"No fibbing!" I called to her. She flipped me off.

Well, I thought. That was kind of a fun afternoon.

( . Y . )

I got out of the shower. Yes, it was mostly a cold one. I had to get this thing back down. No masturbating, that was the bet. And I sure didn't want to lose! Ok, truth be told, I'm sure that I had masturbated to Mom at some point in my life. But... shit... it wasn't all the time, hardly ever. I just didn't think of her that way. Until today. Or maybe, yesterday. But definitely right now. I gotta fucking clear my head.

"Honey?" Mom called from the hallway. "There's a sandwich downstairs. I'm going to clean up and do some shopping for some shit. You can go do whatever, but I was thinking we could go out somewhere tonight. Maybe, Fleming's?" That was a high-end steakhouse. The kind where a potato is twelve dollars.

"Yeah! Sure! Sounds good!" I dried my crotch but kept moving. Fuck! I didn't know it was this hard not to touch myself!

In my room, I heard the shower go on. Mom's naked in the shower. Now this, I thought, this is the moment of truth. Are we kidding around or are we playing with fire? This will tell. If I go in there, we'll find out.

I walked down the hall to her bedroom.

Put my hand on the knob.

No, I can't do this.

I'm a fucking pussy.

Then I began to twist the knob.

Locked.

Fucking bitch! I thought to myself. She knew... she knew I would try. Which means... what? No? Never? Not now? Go jerk off? Oh Mom... you're a sneaky one.

Well, I certainly never got a hard on playing X-box, so I went and did that. With my sandwich, of course. You can't play Xbox and not eat.

( . Y . )

Got a text from Mom later in the afternoon.

-Bought something for tonight! Let's be ready to leave around 6:30. Dinner reservations are at 7. Dress kind of nice. Love, Mom.

Mom doesn't know that you don't have spell out every word in a text. Or she doesn't believe in it.

I replied.

-Yep luv u 2

She came home an hour or so later. Poked her head into the study, said 'Hi', and locked herself in her room again. Whatever.

At 6:15, I put on my nice black pants and a black silk shirt, it's got some white little paisley action going on over one shoulder. Mom bought it for me at Christmas and I hadn't worn it yet.

Brushed my teeth, shaved, spiked my hair up... boom. Looking pretty sharp! I went downstairs and got the car keys.

At 6:30 I hollered up, "I'm ready!"

At 6:40 I hollered up, "We're going to be late!"

At 6:43 I hollered up, "We could probably get a seat at McDonald's or maybe Burger--"

I stopped speaking. I stood at the base of the stairs as Mom tiptoed down in a black dress and high heels. But that's like saying the Eiffel Tower is a metal structure.

This dress, wow! Satiny material, deep and dark black. It went to about her mid-thighs so it wasn't real slutty, but it was tight up top. Very tight. Fitted, I guess is the term. Fitted like a small glove around her voluptuous body. You could see some motion in the dress. I wasn't certain, but I was guessing no bra. However, the dress was cinched a bit and seemed to provide some support for her beautiful babies.

As she walked past, I got another surprise. The dress had no back. Backless. Bareback. There was a little string of faux diamonds going across the back, holding it together. But that was it. And it was backless to the small of Mom's back. The very small of it. the smallest part. What I would call, 'Below the belt' even.

She did a little turn for me in the foyer. Her dress flew out a flew inches as she spun. I like that.

"So?" she asked. Mom had her dark hair done differently, some big curls and waves and flips instead of her usual flat. Dark red lipstick and gorgeous eye makeup completed her look. She was waiting for me to say something.

"Fabulous... fabulous... holy shit... you don't look like anybody's mother!"

She flashed me a demure smile, seductively put a fingertip in her mouth, turned halfway and kicked up a heel.

"Like the shoes?"

Black patent leather, stiletto heels, and extra straps that went up her ankle far more than is legal in some southern states. The heels were perfect; high, but not so high as to make one look stupid when they walk.

"Holy shit, Mom! Where's dad's gun? I think we'll need one tonight!"

Mom laughed.

"I'm serious!" I continued. "We're not taking the Explorer. I'm getting the Jag keys!"

Dad's Jaguar, a 1963 XKE with a 12-cylinder engine, didn't get out much. I wasn't allowed to drive it. He inherited it from a rich uncle some years back and he probably put 200 miles a year on it. He probably spent a thousand dollars a year on it just trying to keep it running, too. Brits, good people but don't understand much about electrical systems.

I started the Jag, she just purred like a kitten. I backed her out of the garage. Mom reached for the door to get in, but I stopped her. I jumped out and ran around to her side. Taking her hand, I eased her into the seat.

Revving the engine, the car shook and vibrated, filling us with promise of a fast and dangerous ride!

I popped the clutch and tore down the street. 13 minutes to go! We screeched and careened and did a couple power slides but still made it to the restaurant about ten minutes late. The valet took the car and backed it in, right by the front door. That's respect!

The waiting area was crowded, I was trying to check in with the Maitre' D. Mom was behind some tall asshole.

"Yes," Fritz was saying. "But you see, sir, we are very busy tonight and we can't hold tables all night..."

Tall guy moved away and Mom came into view and held my arm, and smiled her award winning smile at old Fritz. Really, she did win an award in 8th grade for best smile. We only tell the truth... ok I'll shut up.

"... but... you are in luck as a table by the window just opened up. This way, please?"

Mom made sure to brush her breast against Fritz a little, and complimented him on his tie. I tried to tip him $50, he refused. No, no money! Not for such a beauty as this! You need your money young man!

The waiter came up right away.

"Good evening folks! Welcome to Fleming's! And, may I just say that your mother looks stunning tonight on this Mother's Day weekend..." He smiled, all pleased with himself.

I spoke very slowly, and very quietly, but with passion.

"This... isn't... my... mother... you insolent, arrogant, insulting fool!"

Mom did a face palm.

"Now look what you've done, you've embarrassed her! Fritz!" I stood up to get Fritz and a ruckus ensued. Could I describe the ruckus? Not really. Just a bunch of staff rushing around, apologizing, bringing a champagne bucket with Fritz' compliments, a pate' that was obviously on it's way to another table, and various breads and rolls, and what else can we get for you? We got a new waiter, too. She was much better and kept her damn mouth shut. The other guy was moved across the room so we didn't have to see him. They assured us of that. We finally placed our orders and they left us alone.

"Who knew you were such a little shit?" Mom asked. But she was laughing, also.

"Hey, I learned from the best."

"Well," she continued. "If I'm not your mother, then maybe we should sit a little bit closer, don't you think?" And we scooted closer. I placed my arm around her, my hand on her warm, bare back. I toyed with her hair as we sipped champagne. Good man, that Fritz.

"Mmmm," Mom cooed. "That's better. Now we look like a couple." And she patted my knee under the table. And she kept it there. And I almost said that they can't see under the table but I was able to shut my stupid mouth up just in time.

The dinner was tremendous. The filets were tender and succulent, the potatoes fabulous, and the company was... divine. Mom and I were touching practically through the whole dinner. Shoulders, or feet, or something. It wasn't forced, either. It felt easy, almost natural. I regaled her with stories of bad girl friends and bad sex times; now that we were on a different level, we could talk about a lot more stuff.

Sadly, the dinner came to an end. The check arrived, in the amount of forty seven dollars. I protested to Fritz that it was too low, but he insisted. We tipped him and the waitress very well, though.

"Hey Fritz?" I asked as we were leaving. "Can you recommend any dance places around here?"

"But of course! Across the street is the fantastic Voodoo Lounge! You can leave your car here and call us to come get you! I will call my friend at the door, you won't wait in line."

Mom tugged on Fritz' arm as he turned to leave. She gave him a big hug. A full body hug. and she kissed him on the cheek.

Fritz went into full flabbergast mode. He stumbled away, red-faced but smiling.

The Voodoo lounge... now here was a place. Swanky. Expensive. $12 beers and $20 drinks. But Fritz got us set up with a nice little booth far enough away from the band so we could talk, but not out in the boonies, either.

The warm-up band played 80's pop music, Mom's favorite. Having grown up in her house, I knew most of the songs too.

"Trav, I haven't danced in ages! Please???"

Who could resist? Not me. The floor was pretty crowded, which was good. We stepped up and got our 'Super Freak' on. After a few songs we went back and sucked down some Goose Gimlets.

"This is... SO MUCH FUN!" Mom shouted to me. Okay it was pretty loud. She moved in closer to me to speak into my ear. "Thank you so much sweetie, I'm loving this!"

"Me too, Mom!"

"No, not 'Mom'. Um... call me... 'Dixie'!"

"Dixie?"

"Yes, Dixie! It's kind of a slutty name, right?"

"Sure, I guess?"

"So Travis, anything you need to admit? Any confessions?" I looked at her quizzically. "Silly boy! Were you able to not molest yourself this afternoon?"

"Oh! Shit! That! Haha! Well it was... hard... very HARD... but I managed not to."

"Hmmm, too bad. I was kind of hoping to win."

Holy shit, did she just say that? Because 'winning' meant that I would have to masturbate while she watched. Um... too much thinking...

"Let's dance some more, Mom!"

We got up and 'Walked like egyptians' which was terribly funny. But then. One of her favorite songs came on. 'Lady in Red', a slow song about dancing with his lover. I was ready to evacuate the dance floor, but Mom pulled me back.

"We're dancing," she informed me.

"You're not wearing red."

"Shut up and hold me."

"Yes, Dixie."

She smiled at that. I placed my right hand on the small of her back. Her bare back.. My left hand held her right hand, and we swayed to the music.

"You're so beautiful, Mom."

"Thanks Travis... but, this isn't middle school. There's no chaperone."

"Right," I said. We were dancing about a foot apart. I pulled her closer. Her slight, yet intoxicating, scent almost overwhelmed me.

Her chest bumped into mine. I pulled her closer still. Her chest pressed into me. Closer... her head lay on my shoulder. With her heels, Mom/Dixie was only about an inch shorter than me.

I pretended to stumble and pulled her tight, to steady her of course. Her thighs pressed against me. I caressed her lower back, slipping my little finger down, under her dress. I felt no panties where there should be some, only a little tiny string.

I was trying to keep my enormous erection from touching her, but it was no use. Inevitably, it bumped into her. Dixie just sighed, and she kissed my ear. Emboldened, I slid my hand further down the back of her dress and cupped a warm ass cheek. My Mom's warm ass cheek. This was it. It's official. I'm copping a feel off my Mom, right now. And she just wriggled tighter into me and ground her pelvis against against my cock.

I pulled my head back to look at her, she turned and looked at me. We were very close.

"You've got a little something back here," I whispered to her. Then I Ieaned in and kissed her neck, just below her right ear. I lingered, and kissed a few more small kisses in the general area. Dixie breathed in heavy, crushing her breasts into me. I turned up a little and kissed her ear lobe, being careful of the diamond earrings that Dad bought her. I nibbled her ears a little more.

I wasn't sure if we were still dancing, or just swaying on the dance floor. I whispered into her ear.

"Dixie, I want to see you masturbate for me. Would you like that?"

There was no movement, then a slight, almost perceptible nod of her head. Yes.

"I've already seen you, for just a moment, though. I want to see you finish." Again, a head nod. I released her right hand so I could put both arms around her waist, and she wrapped her arms around my neck.

"Travis... honey..."

"Yes, Dixie?"

"You love me, right? I mean, for real. Not just 'yes Mom of course I love you'..."